


peaches and cream

by BabyMilk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Loves Stiles, Disabled Character, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Paralysis, Stiles can't walk, Sweetness, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4723169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyMilk/pseuds/BabyMilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can't use his legs but makes the most of it<br/>Derek takes care of his boo<br/>this is tooth rotting</p>
            </blockquote>





	peaches and cream

**Author's Note:**

> I found this story about a cat born unable to use her legs and was protected by her best friend, a dozen that never left her side and they were so sweet I got the idea.
> 
> Enjoy!!

The feeling in his legs stopped at mid thigh, no one was sure why but one day when Stiles woke up he couldn't move his legs. It was as if they had never existed to begin with. Stiles can remember screaming, terrified at the unexplained numbness. He gripped the floral sheets on his mattress, swinging his lifeless limbs over the edge and watched them flop. His father almost tore his door off the hinges when he entered, encountering his panicking son, snot and tears running down Stiles face like waterfalls, his chest heaving.   
"What's wrong?!" he remembered his father shouting, unintentionally causing Stiles heart to race. "I can't feel my legs!" Stiles shrieked, attempting to walk and immediately meeting the hardwood floor with his face. The next hour resulted in John driving his distraught son to the hospital. John carefully lifted Stiles, one hand tucked under his cold knees, the other holding Stiles upright by his back. Stiles kept his skinny arms around his fathers neck, shaking.  
The doctor wasn't much help, offering to run expensive tests or even more expensive physical therapy, both of which they denied. Stiles, despite his terror, didn't want to be poked and prodded by needles and doctors. So today he sits, ghostly legs tucked under himself by Scott. He leaned on the couch arm, his own arms folded and head resting on them. His wheelchair is parked by Dereks kitchen counter, decorated with ribbons courtesy of Lydia, and a few superhero themed stickers courtesy of Scott. Derek always pushed him around when they went out together.  
The sound of the loft door opening woke him, the heavy sound of Dereks boots and grocery bags rustling through the kitchen area, the muted sound of Derek accidentally running into his wheelchair followed by "fuck" made Stiles huff with laughter. "Smooth moves, wolfie." Stiles laughs, watching his mate aggressively put cans in the pantry.   
"Did Scott come by today?" Derek asks, widely avoiding the wheelchair to come sit by Stiles. "Mmmhm." Stiles awkwardly moved his torso towards Derek, twisting his hips to try and move his legs on his own. Derek gently held his limbs, moving them to making switching positions easier for Stiles.   
They sat in silence for a while, Stiles leaning against Dereks muscular shoulder. "I'm sorry." Stiles says, breaking the silence. Derek grunts, looking at his mates sad face. "I can't help but feel like such a hassle for you." he sighs, casting a guilty look at his wheelchair. Derek huffed, wrapping an arm around Stiles' slim shoulders "Why do you do that?" he asks, "act like you did this on purpose?" he continues, putting his nose into Stiles scalp. "you talk about this like it's something you can control. I don't mind taking care of you, pushing you in your wheelchair and helping you take baths. To me it strengthens the mate bond." his large hand rubs comforting circles into Stiles' shoulder. Stiles couldn't help but stare, a smile on his lips and light dusting of pink on his cheeks. "you're too good to me." he smiles, planting a kiss on Dereks stubbled cheek. 

8:30 PM, Stiles bath time. He could never get to the rooms himself, his wheelchair was too bulky for hallways and narrow bedroom doors so he was usually carried like a princess everywhere he needed to go.   
Derek sat behind Stiles, running the detachable shower head over his sleek back. Derek took good care of Stiles, most of his friends tried to stay as far away from naked Stiles as possible, keeping on their clothes and sitting on the floor or on a stool while making sure Stiles didn't try to walk or was hurt somehow. Derek got intimate, washing Stiles' hair and scrubbing him everywhere, pampering his mate like a princess. Stiles begged to use a bath bomb, as they usually did (Stiles loved the swirling colors) but tonight was a shower night, the tub devoid of water except for the spray.   
Stiles rubbed up and down his shins, trying to remember what it felt like to have control of his muscles. It was about two years ago since he first lost feeling and control of his legs, they were just dead now. He would sometimes feel a tingle in his thighs where he still had feeling but besides that there was no evidence that they were ever functional.   
"Ready?" Derek asks, stepping out first. He nearly slips on the tile floor but quickly recovers, huffing loudly to restore his dignity. Stiles pretended he didn't see. He takes hold of Stiles' forearms, pulling his mate from the tub and onto the edge, Stiles held his arms out to wrap around Dereks neck, his mate holding him against his naked, wet body. Their skin sticks with the moistness, Derek didn't attempt to pick up their towels. A past attempt to do just that resulted in Derek dropping Stiles and Stiles hitting his head on the sink.   
They make quick work to the bedroom, Stiles drying himself off on a wooden chair they keep by the bed so he can do just that without wetting the sheets. Stiles admires his mates taut behind.   
He fell asleep beside Derek, like he did every night, watching his mate breathe and hold him, ready to repeat the process again tomorrow. He didn't mind being dependent on someone so willing to help. He gave Derek a light smooch, shuffling awkwardly with his hips to get closer, legs wrapped strangely around each other and between Dereks own. He almost hoped the feeling never returned so he could be this close to Derek always.


End file.
